


Just For Tonight

by prowlstwinkass



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, might get another chapter eventually, or a sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 16:02:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlstwinkass/pseuds/prowlstwinkass
Summary: Of all adjectives Fortress Maximus thought he might use to describe Prowl, 'drunk' and 'absurdly chatty' were not among that list.





	Just For Tonight

Of all adjectives Fortress Maximus thought he might use to describe Prowl, 'drunk' and 'absurdly chatty' were not among that list.

"Where did you get engex?" Fortress asked, staring bemusedly at Prowl, who stared owlishly at him from the sofa, a half-empty bottle of moonshine dangling precariously from his digits.

"Bought it when we were on Cybertron last," Prowl said, somehow managing a derisive expression despite the haze of drunkenness in his single functioning optic. "There's a roaring trade, understandably; there's no one who's not tried drowning themselves in engex at least once." He sniffed, blinking up at Fortress Maximus. "You have, definitely. Decided you didn't like losing control of yourself, so you just decided to go for memory-flux inhibitors instead."

Infuriatingly, Prowl wasn't wrong.

"I don't need my coping mechanisms picked apart by a drunk Prowl."

"Prowl picks apart everything, Fortress," the doorwinger said, words barely slurred. "Picks apart others, picks apart himself, picks apart relationships, destroys those relationships, burns the ashes. Did you know I had a gestalt?"

Fortress sighed. "I don't want to hear your sob story, Prowl."

"Well I don't see why you have to stay, then, I'm good enough company for myself." Prowl sniffed again. "I had a gestalt, though," he continued. "The Constructicons. They loved me. Or close to it. Do you know what it's like to combine? It's like being whole. And when you aren't combined it's like... like missing limbs. Except different." Prowl squinted at some point on Fortress Maximus's chest. "Like being cold, maybe? I'm always cold. And my head feels too quiet."

"I don't care."

The doorwinger lifted a digit and winked. "But you're still here." He held out the bottle. "Care for some? If I drink any more I'll pass out. Not that that's bad, actually." Prowl looked at the bottle, considering it carefully.

"I'm not hauling you back to your quarters," Fortress grumbled, and snatched the proffered bottle. Deactivating his inhibitor chip, he took a swig. It burned down his throat, but familiarity kept him from coughing. "This is strong."

"Of course it is, I wouldn't settle for anything less." Prowl slouched into the couch, throwing one leg over the unoccupied cushions. Fortress couldn't help the flicker of his optics to the panel between Prowl's spread thighs before he forcefully dragged his gaze up to the doorwinger's face. Prowl wasn't looking at him, thankfully, his optic locked on the far wall.

With a sigh, Fortress took another swig from the bottle. "So why the engex?"

Prowl shrugged. "Felt like it. Haven't had the time for drinking lately, what with my running around and almost getting killed by several former colleagues in quick succession." His blue optic narrowed, the movement mirrored by a twitch about his broken optic. "Sit down," he said suddenly, leg falling to the ground with a thump as he patted the sofa. "I don't want to have to look up at you."

Fortress looked at Prowl for a few long nanokliks before lowering himself slowly onto the opposite end of the three-seater sofa. Once more Prowl flung his leg along the sofa, his pede a micrometer from Fortress's thigh.

"What was I saying before?" Prowl mused aloud, pursing his lips. His voice was clear and his diction as it ever was, the only hint to his drunkenness lying in the subject of his words, the slouch of his frame, and the haze in his optic. "Gestalts, yes, gestalts. The agony of being a single component."

Fortress wasn't too sure what kept him on the sofa besides morbid curiosity at what Prowl might say in such an inebriated state. This was certainly the most honest Fortress Maximus had ever seen the mech.

"I'll never combine again, I think," Prowl went on, oblivious to Fortress's thoughts. "The Constructicons hate me, and they've found a new sixth– some slagger obsessed with Starscream and prophecies. Optimus Maximus's components hate me too, for all they preach of peace and empathy. They'll never combine with me again."

The pain in Prowl's gaze as he met Fortress's optics threw the Duly Appointed Enforcer for a loop. The doorwinger stared at him for a moment before the pain slid behind drunkenness once more.

"I'm not drunk enough," Prowl mumbled. He collected his limbs and scooted over the cushions until he was near enough to reach for the bottle Fortress still held in his servo. Automatically, Fortress held it away from the smaller mech's grasp.

Prowl frowned. "That's rude." He stood up on his knees, doorwings flared and waving to keep him steady, and reached out again. Fortress held it higher.

"You've drunk enough, Prowl."

"I most certainly have not!" The doorwinger flung himself upward in an awkward attempt to grab the bottle, but he only succeeded in falling against Fortress's chest, half-sprawled across his lap. Prowl remained in that position for a few moments, before he sighed and went limp.

Fortress Maximus frowned, setting the bottle on the floor beside the couch as he leaned forward to check whether Prowl had passed out or not. He hadn't, his optics open and his expression oddly neutral.

"Prowl?" Fortress said softly, servos hovering over the smaller mech. The doorwinger let out another sigh, optic fluttering shut. "Prowl if you're going to recharge I'll have to ask you to do it in your berth."

"I'll do it in _your_ berth," Prowl retorted drunkenly, rolling over clumsily until he'd leant himself against Fortress's shoulder, doorwings pinned between them awkwardly.

Surprised, the first thing to come out of Fortress's mouth was, "You know, you're heavier than I thought you'd be."

Prowl nodded, the corner of his lip twitching in a grimace. "Have to be. More mass, less stress in combining." He sighed melancholically. "I'd get rid of it all, but there's always a chance..."

Fortress shook his helm, heaving a sigh. "Come on, let's get you back to your room." He stood up from the couch, and Prowl flopped down onto his side without the larger mech to brace him upright.

"No thanks," the doorwinger mumbled, pressing his face into the cushions.

If Fortress were a lesser mech, he might have just left Prowl there to sleep it off, but his principles rebelled against such an act.

"Sit up, Prowl," Fortress Maximus urged, kneeling before the couch and nudging the doorwinger into an upright position. "Come on, let's go."

"Rather not," Prowl said, optics offline and helm hanging. He sighed and leant forward, resting his helm on Fortress's shoulder. "Be a good mech and carry me, won't you?"

"Absolutely not."

Prowl scoffed and shook his helm, shoulders and doorwings drooping as he fell further towards a drunken recharge. "C'mon, you know you want to." He turned his face and pressed a short kiss to Fortress’s plating. “Please, ‘Crusher? I could just get Long Haul if you won’t.” Another bleary kiss. “C’mon…”

Fortress frowned. “Get up on your own or you'll fall asleep here and wake up with a backache.”

“Mmmmno.”

Primus dammit. Fortress Maximus carefully maneuvered the drowsy doorwinger until he could easily scoop Prowl into his arms. Standing up, Fortress dithered for a moment before picking up the bottle of engex and putting it into his subspace.

The journey to Prowl’s quarters was quiet. The mech himself was just barely awake, face buried in Fortress’s shoulder as he heaved a sigh and a wordless mutter.

Prowl’s was just one of the many empty rooms on the Luna One base, but Fortress noticed idly that it was only a short corridor away from where Fortress Maximus, Cerebros, and Red Alert had chosen their own quarters close by one another.

Keying in the master code to which he was privy, Fortress opened the door to Prowl’s quarters, pinging the lights to come online. The room was distinctly empty of all but the berth and the small desk and chair. Stepping over to the berth, which had been pushed into the corner furthest from the door, Fortress lowered Prowl carefully onto the padded surface.

White digits scraped lightly at Fortress’s plating as he began to extricate himself from Prowl. Having worked his arms free, Fortress began to retreat, only for Prowl to reach out with clumsy digits, gripping Fortress’s wrist weakly.

“Stay?” he said, the light of his working optic dim.

Fortress stopped, stared, and thought, ‘Well this night is full of surprises.’

“What?” Fortress said out loud.

Prowl tugged on the arm in his grasp, propping himself up on his elbow. “Stay? I don't think I can sleep without– I never sleep well unless– but I guess that means I never sleep well, heh.” He turned his face to press it against Fortress’s carefully still servo. “Been a long time since someone was nice to me,” he mumbled.

‘Because you don't deserve it,’ hissed the darker part of Fortress’s mind. He pushed the thought away forcibly, spark twisting just slightly with guilt.

“I know I'm not very nice. Don't deserve nice things.” Prowl’s optic had gone offline, and his lips brushed against Fortress’s knuckles as he spoke. “You can hit me in the morning, yes? In the morning. Just need someone here tonight.”

Fortress Maximus looked down at the black and white strategist, dead drunk and all but begging for a mech to keep him company while he slept. It was pitiable. Fortress could empathize.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice too loud in the quiet that had fallen on the small room.

Prowl smiled, optics shut. Still holding on to Fortress’s wrist, he scooted back until he was closer to the wall, lying on his side. His optic had come online, and he looked at Fortress expectantly.

Awkward for his lack of one operable servo, Fortress managed to get down on the berth, stretching out on his back. For a moment he was thankful that Prowl had chosen a room with a berth of Fortress’s frameclass size.

Prowl held Fortress’s arm like a newbuild might hold its security blanket. Pressing up against the larger mech’s side, Prowl laid his helm on Fortress’s shoulder and sighed.

“Thank you,” he said. His digits toyed idly with Fortress’s own servo.

“You're welcome.”

Before long Prowl’s ventilations slowed and his hold on Fortress’s arm loosened. Fortress Maximus made no effort to retrieve it, however.

He stared at the ceiling for a long time before recharge finally claimed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write a sequel to this with actual slash and perhaps some smut but I'm bad at smut without plot so I'll have to scrounge a plot from somewhere  
> Comments are my life, please comment


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